


Spread 'Em

by chronicopheliac



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Hannibal, Gun Kink, Gun play, Handcuffs, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Massage, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Roleplay, Top Will, roleplay cop!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicopheliac/pseuds/chronicopheliac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal finds himself caught and handcuffed by Will, who is wearing his police uniform.</p>
<p>Basically, a sexy cop roleplay scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spread 'Em

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Devereauxs_Disease](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/gifts).



> I blame this all entirely on [Devereauxs_Disease](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease). She made the comment, SHE STARTED IT. So we did a fic exchange with our own take on a cop!Will roleplay scenario.
> 
> Shoutout to [victorine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/victorine), who has been so lovely with her comments, and expressed some interest in this particular idea. :)
> 
> I've been very sick for the last several days, so this is pretty much entirely unedited, apologies for any errors or weird sentences or whatever.

The crushing pressure against Hannibal’s face borders on painful as Will shoves him down over the desk, pinning both of Hannibal’s arms behind his back and making no attempt to be gentle. Hannibal grunts, struggling against Will’s weight on him, but the angle of his arms makes it difficult. He's unable to do more than writhe around, snarling when he feels the pinch of handcuffs locking onto his wrists with a click.

“Thought you could get away from me, Doctor Lecter?” Will’s breath is hot against his ear and Hannibal tries to turn away from it, but he is held fast by Will’s hand clamping down over the back of his neck.

Hannibal swallows hard, allowing himself a defiant grin. “What makes you think I was trying to get away?” he rasps, before snapping his head back to make contact with Will’s face. 

The impact is harder than Hannibal intended, and he hears Will curse and stumble back in pain. It’s almost enough to distract him, he’s about to turn and check on Will to make sure he’s okay, but he reminds himself that Will hasn’t indicated wanting to stop. Instead, Hannibal rolls himself to the edge of the desk so he can stand and head for the door.

Just as his hand touches the doorknob, Hannibal feels a hand grab the hair at the back of his head, a sharp tug has Hannibal on his knees and arching back, gasping at the shock of cold metal digging into his spine - the barrel of Will’s gun.

“I can’t kill you, but I can shoot you, Doctor Lecter. No one will fault me for shooting Hannibal the Cannibal, especially if you run,” Will flicks his tongue along the shell of Hannibal’s ear. “So if you want to retain the use of your legs, you’ll behave.”

All Hannibal is able to do is growl as Will drags him back to the desk, keeping his gun trained on him, and he pulls Hannibal up by the hair to force him to stand against it. Hannibal tries not to grimace as he rolls his shoulder as much as he’s able - being manhandled in handcuffs by Will is thrilling, but it’s not the most comfortable thing in the world. The discomfort grows distant, however, at the sight of blood dripping from Will’s nose, darkening the navy blue of his shirt.

Blood is so becoming on Will, if Hannibal had felt any guilt at all over his nose, it shrinks away, replaced instead by a surge of lust that goes straight to his cock.

Will paces around the desk slowly, considering what he wants to do next. “Now that I’ve caught you,” he drawls, coming to stand in front of Hannibal, tracing the barrel of his gun along Hannibal’s jaw. “The proper thing to do is turn you in.”

Hannibal licks his lips, his eyes raking over the way Will’s old police uniform fits over his chest and thighs, just a little too snug. He lets a smile tug at the corners of his eyes. “It is the proper thing to do, but perhaps not as appealing as other things. So many choices are before you, and you alone have the power to make them, Officer.”

A smirk plays across Will’s features, and he skims the gun barrel down to Hannibal’s neck, across his collarbone, to rest at the base of his throat. “That’s right, I do. Maybe I’ll let them have you, yet,” he murmurs, transfixed by the glint of the metal against Hannibal’s skin. “But not before I have you, first.”

Will hooks two fingers over the top button of Hannibal’s shirt, lips parting in anticipation, and jerks down, causing all of the buttons to pop off. It was a good shirt, and Hannibal’s upper lip curls in anger as he makes to barrel through Will with his shoulder, but Will anticipates his movement and shoves him back. Hannibal loses his footing and falls hard onto his back against the desk, and Will is on him in a heartbeat with an arm over Hannibal’s throat, and the gun at his temple.

“I told you to behave, Doctor Lecter. If you didn’t want your shirt to get ruined, you should have thought about that before you came prancing in here,” Will lowers his head to bite the join of Hannibal’s neck and shoulder, hips angling down to rub their erections together.

“I hardly pranced, ungh--Officer,” Hannibal grits out, trying to twist his body to at least relieve some of the weight on his arms, and he can feel the handcuffs digging painfully into his wrists.

“Paraded, then,” Will amends, easing up off of Hannibal to allow him to stand again. “Don’t make me tell you again, Doctor Lecter. Behave.” His commanding tone sends another pleasant shock of arousal down to Hannibal’s now aching erection, and he nods once, eyes hooding with desire.

Teasing fingers graze down Hannibal’s chest, brushing over one nipple, then the other, before continuing down to the waistband of Hannibal’s trousers. The gun is brought down to trace lazy circles over Hannibal’s nipple as Will unbuttons his trousers, then slides down the zipper. Hannibal shifts his legs so his pants fall down to his ankles, and steps out of them along with his shoes, kicking the pile aside. Will hums with approval and rewards him by cupping his erection, rubbing against it with his palm.

“On your knees,” Will commands, and Hannibal drops to the ground without the slightest resistance, moaning as Will grabs him by the hair and grinds his face against his own erection, straining against the fabric of his uniform.

Mouthing over the bulge of Will’s cock, Hannibal looks up at Will to meet his gaze. Will sighs out a breath and tightens his grip, jerking Hannibal’s head back to press the barrel of his gun against Hannibal’s lips. Hannibal stares down the length of the firearm with some hesitation, until he notices the safety is on, and he relaxes his jaw to accept the barrel into his mouth, feeling his own cock twitching with the thrill of it.

The effect on Will, too, is obvious, as his breath comes a little shorter, licking his own lips unconsciously at the sight of Hannibal’s tongue swirling over the shiny metal, pupils blown wide with arousal. He shoves the gun a little deeper, enjoying the stretch of Hannibal’s mouth and the rumbling moan that comes from the back of his throat.

Before long, however, Will wants more, and he removes the gun to draw it over the side of Hannibal’s face, spreading saliva over his cheek and coming to rest at his temple. Hannibal cracks a smile and leans forward to catch the button of Will’s trousers between his teeth, spitting it out when he bites it off, then moves back to undo his pants the rest of the way, revealing the fact that Will isn’t wearing any underwear. 

Releasing his hold in Hannibal’s hair, Will shoves at his pants to get them down with some difficulty, as they are just a little too snug to fall down as easily as Hannibal’s, so Hannibal assists him with his teeth once again by pulling down on one side as Will pushes at the other.

With trousers out of the way, Will’s cock bobs forward against Hannibal’s cheek, and he grips it to smear the tip across Hannibal’s lips. Will’s eyes flick over to the gun for a moment, and with some reluctance, puts it on the table behind them so he can take Hannibal’s head in both hands and push into his mouth, forcing himself all the way to the back of his throat without so much as warning.

Hannibal gags at the intrusion, but is able to suppress it quickly, dropping his shoulders as he tilts his head up to relax his throat as much as he can.

“Fuck,” Will mutters, pulling back so just the head of his cock is in Hannibal’s mouth, and curses again when Hannibal closes his lips to suck the tip, tonguing the slit to savour the bitter dribble of precome. Will shoves in again, and again, and then has to pull out entirely with a frantic gasp, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock to stave off release.

There is probably more to the script that Will has planned, more fun to have with the roles they are playing, but Hannibal can see the moment that Will loses interest in the game, and is concerned only with the pursual of physical gratification. He drags Hannibal to his feet and turns him around to bend him over the desk, knocking the gun to the floor and reaching past him to grab at the bottle of lube that is, by some stroke of luck, still standing there.

Will opens the bottle and haphazardly pours lube into his hand, dipping it beneath the waistband of Hannibal’s briefs to tease slick fingers against his hole. He drops the bottle, still open, to the floor so he can tug down the briefs to Hannibal’s thighs, one finger breaching past the muscle to the second knuckle with ease. Hannibal pushes back a little to encourage Will deeper, and Will obliges with the press of a second finger, sliding in beside the first.

The steady rhythm of Will’s fingers makes Hannibal writhe beneath him, moaning for more, as Will bends over him to mark him with vicious bites to his neck and shoulders. As soon as Will curves his fingers to touch his prostate, Hannibal cries out, panting Will’s name and pushing back to take him deeper still. The drag of Will’s fingers over and over again is relentless, and Hannibal feels the pressure building at the base of his throbbing erection until he can’t hold back anymore, and he’s releasing in great, shuddering bursts while Will trails kisses across Hannibal’s back, wherever he can reach, his other hand petting through Hannibal’s hair.

When he finally settles, much more pliant and sated draped over the desk, Will removes his fingers and uses them to slick up his own cock before lining himself up against Hannibal’s hole. Hannibal lets out a sigh of contented pleasure as Will drives himself inside, arching his body to meet Will in his unrestrained fervor.

Each thrust of Will’s cock into Hannibal’s body sets their hearts racing faster, both of them moaning with wanton abandon. Hannibal can feel Will’s cock brushing over his prostate again and again, and he can feel the pressure building once more, making his legs tremble and give out underneath him, putting more of his weight onto the desk.

“F-fuck, Hannibal, I’m coming, I’m--” Will cries out and his hips stutter as he fucks into Hannibal through his orgasm, moaning loudly as he feels Hannibal tense up all around him, as though to squeeze every last drop of release into himself.

“Don’t you dare stop,” Hannibal grits out, and Will clutches at Hannibal’s hips, fingers digging in to yank Hannibal back to take his cock harder and deeper. A few more thrusts has Hannibal over the edge again, his moans pitching higher into a tremulous whine, and they both crumple to the floor as Will’s legs fail him as well.

They lay there for several long moments, tangled in each other’s limbs, breathless and sweaty and weak. Will laughs and manages to roll off of Hannibal to lay on his back, looking over at Hannibal laying on his stomach with a dazed expression.

A moment of awareness flashes in his eyes, and he reaches into his breast pocket to pull out a key. With a grin, he leans over to undo Hannibal’s handcuffs before falling onto his back again, reaching one hand out to stroke the side of Hannibal’s face.

Hannibal’s arms fall to his sides with a loud thump on the floor, and he rolls onto his back so he can try to rub his wrists, wincing a little at the tingling sensation through his limbs. He shuffles himself closer to Will and kisses his shoulder, unable to reach anywhere else for lack of strength to hold himself up. Will reaches for him and pulls him close, wrapping an arm over Hannibal’s shoulders.

“I think you broke my nose, you prick,” Will chuckles, dabbing at his nose with the back of his other hand. Whether he is unable or unwilling to get up from the floor is uncertain.

“As soon as I get feeling back in my hands, I'll have a look at it,” Hannibal laughs, content for the moment to rest his head on Will's chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are amazing and YOU ARE ALL AMAZING! Thank you for reading!
> 
> [Come say hello or prompt me on tumblr!](http://chronicopheliac.tumblr.com)


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